I stood in full attention as Black bodies dressed in red, white and blue formed an American flag. I bowed in humble submission when they broke position triggering thoughts of their complicated relationship with the stars and stripes.
Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime show is understood best within the context of how he landed on that stage.
In 2016, Colin Kaepernick took a knee during the playing of “The Star-Spangled Banner” to protest the deaths of Black men and women at the hands of police officers.
“To me, this is bigger than football, and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way,” Kaepernick said in The Guardian. “There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder.”
The NFL responded by kicking Kaepernick out of the league. In May 2018, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell barred athletes from protesting on the sidelines during the national anthem while granting them the right to remain in the locker room.
Fans determined to stand in solidarity with Kaepernick boycotted watching football during the 2018 season after all 32 teams refused to give the former San Francisco quarterback a tryout.
“We can’t have the inmates running the prison,” said Bob McNair, owner of the Houston Texans.
“That’s how they look at you. That’s what they think about you,” said Jay-Z in response to McNair’s comment. “We’ve got so much further to go.”
A massive dip in NFL ratings led Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots, to contact Jay-Z to help repair the NFL’s relationship with Black fans. Jay-Z inked a five-year, $25 million deal with the league to produce the Super Bowl halftime show and to improve the NFL’s social justice agenda.
Understanding that context is critical in unfolding the symbols in Lamar’s halftime show. It explains the Black rage and call for a televised revolution. It explains the demand for forty acres and a mule along with the continuing dilemma Black people face – gaining access to the
American Dream while facing battles questioning the credibility of policies protecting diversity, equity and inclusion.
Those Black bodies forming an American flag responds to punishment for kneeling during the playing of the “Star-Spangled Banner.’ Those bodies are responding to attacks proclaiming Black Lives Matter. They witness the history, legacy and ongoing challenges of Black men and women who built America on their backs and fought for America’s version of democracy with their blood, sweat, tears and lives.
The powerful presence of Black Uncle Sam evokes a call to stand in defiance to the admonition of severe punishment for failing to follow the rules. It’s a warning not to kneel like Kaepernick. It’s a reminder to place personal success above collective good. It’s a statement involving the benefits of minimizing the importance of Black identity when in the presence of white people confused by your message.
‘Too loud, too reckless, too ghetto,” Uncle Sam said. “Mr. Lamar, do you really know how to play the game?”
The selection of songs doesn’t fit. The staging doesn’t fit. The expectation is to make the art entertaining. That’s what Black people do – right.
Lamar’s music isn’t created to appease the interest of Donald Trump and other likeminded people in the crowd. His halftime performance isn’t meant to address a universal truth. All of the dancers are Black. All of the lyrics involve Black life and culture. Lamar doesn’t stray from his anti-establishment persona. He offers a unique political agenda rooted in the language of Black revolution.
“The revolution will be televised,” said Lamar. “You got the right time but the wrong guy.”
Lamar is not your typical Super Bowl performer. He’s on stage to represent the condition of many Black people living in America. That life involves the ongoing friction between unity and division under the fabric of the red, white and blue.
Uncle Sam reflects Lamar’s self-examination of his role on the world’s biggest stage.
“We were wrong for not listening to NFL Players earlier,” Goodell said in a 2020 apology announcing the reversal of the NFL policy after the death of George Floyd.
Goodell and the 32 owners of NFL teams failed to concede the mind of Black people during a time of immense tension. They expected compromise placing the interest of white fans above the concerns of Black people. They punished resistance and demanded a pledge of allegiance.
Lamar faced a similar decision. Should he bow due to the threat of a lawsuit for performing “They Not Like Us,” his Grammy award winning diss track? Should he listen to Uncle Sam or give the people what they want.
Lamar’s Super Bowl LIX performance is the most-watched broadcast in American television history, outdrawing the Apollo 11 moon landing on July 20, 1969 and Michael Jackson’s halftime show from over 30 years ago.
The more than 150 million viewers experienced more than the artistry of a 22 Grammy Award winning rapper. They witnessed what happens when art intersects with social justice. They received a glimpse of what happens when art is on full display without pressure to fulfill the desire of viewers.
This halftime show is not about Drake. It’s about what Drake, and many recording artists like Drake, represent. It’s about the ongoing grappling that many Americans face.
Should we capitulate and compromise to the demands of the opinions and voices who witness what we do? Or, should we follow the lead of Serena Williams.
When you know where you came from and what centers your place in the universe, crip walk.
